


A Pair of Wings and Scotch on the Rocks

by emis1967shinyblackbae



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, F/M, M/M, Multi, Period Typical Attitudes, Violence, murders
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 17:39:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2077119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emis1967shinyblackbae/pseuds/emis1967shinyblackbae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1946, the war in Europe is finally over, but for New York police officer Dean Winchester, the fight is never over. Being part of a secret section of the NYPD, he dealt with the regular bad guys as well as some not so regular bad guys, all manners of creature and monster you could ever imagine. Dean had seen it all and assumed that he was always prepared for anything. However, what he hadn’t been prepared for was being served a rookie for a partner, an ex-soldier by the name of Castiel Novak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Pair of Wings and Scotch on the Rocks

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first period fic. I am trying my best to make everything accurate to the time and such. Forgive me if I fuck shit up. I am so sorry. Hope you enjoy this. I love the idea more than anything.

Dean had always loved New York, through the good times and the bad times, it was his home. He knew he would never leave the city; having grown far too attached to the smell of automobile exhaust and rusted metal and moist brick. It was all he had known, and he didn’t see any problem staying somewhere he was comfortable. 

Dean Winchester is the type of man to take care of the things he cares for, whether that be his mother, his baby brother, or his city. He lost his father to the tail ends of the First World War and then the Great Depression sent his family and the city into chaos. His mother struggled to work the best she could to keep her boys alive and Dean did everything he could to make sure Sammy was taken care of at home while his mother was out. It was a system of care and in the end, Dean would also circle himself back to his mother, reassuring her they were doing okay and that she was amazing and that he loved her. It was his lot in life, to take care of other people, and after he got two jobs and helped his mother to stabilize everything, he realized that. He was meant to help others, and he actually enjoyed it at times. So now, with his family already handled, in 1939, he naturally became a New York Police Officer to protect the last big thing that he loved. Taking to his job quickly and Captain Singer favoring the man’s bravery and eagerness, he was given his position as detective in no time. 

Now, up until his involvement with the police, Mr. Winchester had no idea that anything monstrous or demonic or supernatural had existed. However, Captain Singer knew all too well, and as much as he didn’t want to get men into the life of hunting, he was in need of someone to handle the ever growing activity that New York was getting. And Detective Winchester was bright eyed, bushy tailed, and ready for orders and anything, so Captain Singer assigned him a simple paranormal case and accompanied him to show him the ropes. 

To Captain Singer’s surprise, Dean was no more scared than he was. He took it all in stride and handled the job like it was something he was born to do. Fighting off a ghost was no easy matter and it was so refreshing to have an actual partner on a case rather than a flake who couldn’t hack it. When it was all over, Captain Singer gave Dean the option of backing out if he didn’t want to be a part of that, but the only thing he said was, “I better be getting paid extra to hunt down Dracula and his goons, alright Cap’n?” The Captain agreed to buy him a drink and boost his pay without question. 

It’s been 7 years since that first case, and ever since, Detective Dean Winchester handled the worst of the worst that his city could hurl at him. A veteran hunter now, a simple homicide was rare for him, and even then, that homicide seemed to lead down the supernatural trail anyway. Slicing vampire heads, killing wendigos, and exorcising demons became as routine as reading the morning paper, catching the subway to work, or going to bed. It was dangerous work obviously, especially at it alone like he was, but in a way he preferred the singleness of his work. He knew that a partner would only slow him down and become a liability. 

So when the day came for him to finally receive a partner, it was the last thing he ever wanted. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*

The sun rays brimmed through the blinds of Dean Winchester’s small brick apartment. The light landed on Dean’s face and he squinted as he woke up, freckles shining under the rays. He stretched himself out and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, ridding them of their morning haze. Glancing about his home, the February frigid weather draped the building in a sheet of ice and chill, encasing the occupants in an ice box. 

Setting his feet against the hard wood floors sent a shiver down his spine, and he winced as he walked to the bathroom to shower. 

Normally, he was not so eager to get up and start the day, especially this early in the day, but today was different. Today was important. 

The water washed him clean of the night and his dreams and he stepped out more lively and refreshed. His hair lightly dripped a small trail of water as he walked back to his bedroom and picked out his outfit for the day. He traced his fingers over the different shirts and pants he had, pondering what would be the most appropriate for a day like this. Finally, he decided on a light grey zoot suit he had bought recently and a starch white button up with a complimentary red tie. 

After he dressed, his stomach demanded breakfast from him. His clock on the wall told him that he had enough time to appease his appetite before he went out. Soon, the smell of scrambled eggs and some bacon filled the kitchen and living room, warming the apartment and filling it with the aroma. Excitedly gobbling down his breakfast, Dean gathered his gun and placed it in its’ holster and adjusted his suit jacket over it. The last thing he needed was his hat and deep brown wool coat and keys and he was out the door. 

The wind slapped Dean in the face as he stepped out of his apartment building. Even at 7 in the morning, New York was still bustling, cars and people whizzing by to get to work. Dean usually did the same, seeing as how he didn’t live too far from the police station, but he had requested some time for today. Dean had never been one for necessary days off or anything, in fact he quite enjoyed going to work. However, today he just needed the time, and considering his phenomenal work as a police officer, Captain Singer really couldn’t tell him no. 

Dean hailed a taxi within a few minutes and was soon seated in the yellow car’s interior. 

“Where you headed, Mista?” The driver questioned, throwing a glance at Dean through the view mirror. 

“South Street Seaport please. As quick as you can manage.” He replied, shuffling in his seat. 

With a nod, the driver set off towards the water. Green eyes reflected the buildings as Dean watched them race behind him. A smile was itching at his lips but he was saving it for when he made it to the port. He wanted Sam to see his first smile in a long time, his first genuine smile. 

Dean couldn’t believe that it was all over for his mother and himself. Sam was coming home; he was finally coming home after all these years. The war in Europe was over, and it meant that the lucky boys who made it could come home now. Thankfully, one of the first ships home held Dean’s baby brother, which was a God send. 

Thinking about Sam made Dean laugh a little, remembering his brother when he was a young child. That mop of hair that curled a little too much and that toothless smile was a memory that Dean thought of often when he was reminded of his brother fighting for the country. He remembered his brother following him around like a lost puppy, curious and eager to be a part of anything and everything that Dean did. Sam was always closer to Dean than anyone else, but when your dad dies and your mother works her ass off just to stay alive, brothers tend to not have much of anyone else. 

The ride ended quicker than Dean had anticipated, and soon his polished Oxfords hit the sidewalk concrete. Paying the taxi driver and facing the pier, the eldest Winchester reached into his pocket and fished out a crumpled piece of paper. Reading the number on it after he unfolded it, Dean then set off down the docks, trying to find the right one. It turned out to be fairly easy, noticing the growing crowd that was clustered on the wave blasted planks four docks down. 

Tucking his hands in his pockets, Dean stood among the other men, women, and children that were huddled together to keep warm. Looking out on the sea, Dean could see a large approaching ship and he had to really fight to keep his grin in. “Wait for Sammy.” He kept chanting in his head. He had to wait. 

As he was standing there, he felt a light tap on his shoulder from behind. He shuffled himself around to face the person and found a familiar blonde woman grinning ear from ear at him. 

“Hello Dean. Come out to the docks often?” She asked, and Dean let out a small smile in return and brought the woman into a hug.

“Oh yeah, mom. I come out here all the time. I sit up in the lighthouse and wait for my darling beloved Sammy to wave at me over the horizon.” He snorted and she giggled, her already wind blasted cherry cheeks becoming redder. 

“Oh Dean, you’re such a card. So are you excited to see him?” She grinned at him, her blue eyes shining at him, something he had missed from her these past few years that Sam had been deployed. 

“Of course, mom.” He reflected his mother’s expression back to her and she sighed. She did know that he was excited because she knew how much Sam meant to Dean. She knew that he was more of a parent to Sam than herself, and as much as that hurt her inside, it made her proud. Mary Winchester had raised her son to be strong and responsible and he cared for his family. She hadn’t totally failed as a mother to them. She managed to do something right.

Dean noticed the large piece of blank wood leaning up against her legs and he nodded to it. “What’s that Mom? Present for Sam?” 

Mary followed his gaze and picked up the wood, flipping it over so the other side of it was revealed. Paint covered the opposite side of the wooden board, Manhattan Island depicted masterfully and in golden letters near the corner was “Welcome Home Sam!” 

“Wow Mom! It looks great! I’m sure he’ll love it.” Dean replied, scrunching his shoulders as the wind whipped around him. 

“Thank you honey. It’s nice to be able to paint again. I felt so bad for so long, but when the war ended and I knew Sam was returning…. It was like life was breathed back into me and my art.” His mother sighed, placing the board back at her feet. 

Dean was about to say something else when a large dark shadow began to creep its way over the crowd as the ship approached the dock, waves rocking against the wood beneath their feet. Together, mother and son turned to wait for their Sammy, hands interlocking in anxiety. 

After some time, men began pouring down the ramp that had been set up on the ship. Dean watched as he saw battered and tired men glow at the sight of their families and cry at the realization that they had made it home. It was over for them. It was beautiful, but as emotional as it was, Dean was more interested in seeing his brother. 

As if reading his mind, a hand shot up not too far in front of them and a tall young man began running up the dock towards them, an all too familiar smile glued to his face.

Sam Winchester ran into the open arms of his mother, breathless and full of laughter and joy. He was briefly aware of the feeling of something wet pooling slightly on his broad shoulder and then he heard the sobs and realized his mother had started crying. He squeezed her tight, taking in the smell of her favorite perfume and some kind of flour from baking she may have done that morning. 

He set his mother down and she clasped her hands over her mouth as she tried to keep from crying so much and turned to the man next to her. 

Once he saw Sam, Dean let his grin finally break free and from that moment on, he could not stop smiling. His little brother was home and alive. It was okay to grin now. 

The brothers locked eyes and Dean threw himself onto Sam, drawing him into the biggest hug he could muster. 

“It’s good to have you back Sammy.” He whispered into his ear and slapped his back, releasing him.

“I am so glad to see you both here! Mom, you look great! You too Dean!” Sam gushed, fixing the large ruck sack on his shoulder. 

“Thank you baby. I have something for you.” Mary managed to say, picking up the wooden board from the ground again. She passed it to Sam and his eyes lit up at the sight of the painting. 

“Mom, you’re painting again! It looks fantastic! Thank you so much! I love it!” The youngest Winchester marveled at his mother’s work, a feeling of relief washing over him. His mother was better now, and that was even better than being home. 

“You know, Sammy, I hate to cut you off and all, but I’m freezing my tail off out here. Why don’t we go get a bite to eat, like old times?” Dean suggested, exaggerating a shiver. 

“I’d love to. Let’s go!” Sam answered and for the first time in about five or so years, the Winchester family felt whole again as they made their way to the nearest restaurant. Even though Dean had already eaten that morning, he just felt like he had to have a meal with his brother, and from the look on his face when he had mentioned food, Dean could tell the kid must’ve been starving. 

The family found a suitable diner not too far from the docks and began their process of catching up. Sam told stories of Europe and all the countries he had been in. Their mother told Sam about how she had gotten a new job, something slower paced than the factory job she had gotten when Sam entered the war. And Dean told them both of some of the bad guys he had caught slumming the streets of New York. Of course, Dean kept out how some of those bad guys were not completely human because his family didn’t need the stress of the boogie man prowling Manhattan during their first meal as a family in years.

After a good amount of time together, Dean announced that it was about time that he got to the station or else the Captain was going to have his head. Sam was reluctant to let his brother go so soon, but he knew that the man had to work, so he gave his brother a big hug, let him pick up the check for the meal, and sent him on his way. 

Giving a quick squeeze to his mother, Dean trekked his way out of the diner and hailed a cab down. The warmth of the car was comforting as he felt an even bigger warmth inside of him. His brother was home. The statement just kept rolling itself around his head. He still couldn’t believe it. It was such a relief that his whole body felt lighter than it had in years. 

With his thoughts focused on Sammy, Dean didn’t even notice that they had entered into the city until the cabby pulled up to the police station. Snapping out of his daze, Dean cheerfully paid the man and made his way up the stone steps and into the building. 

As he entered the office, everyone seemed to give him funny glances, noticing his smile. Most of them were unaware that the great Dean Winchester could smile. He always had a scowl on or a straight face, not showing much emotion other than anger. 

Dean was just about to head to his desk and sort through all his paperwork when one of the other officers, a man by the name of Garth stopped him.  
“Hey Winchester, the captain is looking for you.” He stated as he sat at his own desk near Dean’s. 

“Alright Garth. I’ll head in there. Hope it’s something good.” Dean answered and approached the open door of the captain’s office. 

Captain Bobby Singer was an older gentleman who had survived a turn in the first World War and came back to continue to serve the country. He had slightly dulled orange hair and a scruffy short beard and a damn near permanent frown on his face, even if he wasn’t really upset about anything. The man was seated at his desk and rose when he saw Dean entering. 

Captain Singer rounded his desk and shook Dean’s hand, his frown twitching into a smile for a second. “Hey boy, good to see you today. How’s your brother doing?” 

At the mention of Sam, Dean grinned wider. “He’s great. Glad to be home.” 

The Captain nodded and then took a quick glance towards the chairs that were next to his glass window that looked out at the rest of the office. 

Dean followed his gaze and found a man sitting in the chair closest to him. He realized that he had not noticed him when he came into the captain’s office. 

“Bobby, who’s this?” He smiled at the man and took in his appearance. 

He was in a large tan trench coat and a simple navy suit and deep blue tie. He had clear blue eyes and messy dark hair and a bit of stubble. A black hat was resting in his hands and he threw a small smile at Dean as well. 

“The reason I called you in here. Dean Winchester, this is Castiel Novak…. You’re new partner.” Bobby said, slapping Dean on the shoulder. 

Dean’s smile fell and he turned on his heel. “Bobby, what the hell do you mean, my partner? I don’t have partners! Not with what I do!” 

“Now Dean, it’s about time you got someone to help you out with your… special cases, and Cas here is the perfect guy to do it. He did some special cases himself during the war. Just got back not too long ago, was part of the first wave of soldiers to return.” Bobby explained but Dean just angrier with every word. 

“Captain, are you telling me this kid is green? You gave me a greenie for a partner?” Dean could not believe what he was hearing. Today was a good day, it had been going so well. Now he was stuck with a partner who was fresh off the line and fresh off the boat. There went his happiness. 

Bobby shrugged at Dean, clearly not arguing about the situation. Dean turned to face the man again, who had stood while he was ranting. He now noticed that the man was only about an inch or two shorter than him. 

“Detective Winchester, it will be an honor to be your partner. I will do my very best to try not to let you down.” Castiel stated, putting a hand out for Dean to shake.

Dean sighed and took the hand and shook it, “Alright Castiel. Well, let’s lay down rule one alright?

Castiel nodded and Dean smirked, “Stay out of my way.” Releasing the man’s hand, Dean stormed out of the office and towards his desk. 

Castiel frowned and turned to Captain Singer, looking for some kind of answer as to why his partner was being this way. 

“He gets better, I swear. You’ll get used to him.”


End file.
